


The Morning of a War

by paperiuni



Series: Unwritten: Codas & Interludes [5]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s03s07: Salt In the Wound, Interlude, Light Angst, M/M, Stolen Moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 13:34:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14545830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperiuni/pseuds/paperiuni
Summary: Alec's body held close to his own is the open half of a fragile place where Magnus fits, that he makes complete.They're about to declare war on a queen of Hell. (A small interlude for 3.07.)





	The Morning of a War

**Author's Note:**

> That hug scene, while wonderful, left me wanting a little more. Here's a take. Slots into the end of the scene.

Alec wraps his arms around him in the corridor, and Magnus feels the world divide. Gently, only gently: the background noise of the Institute never stops. It's still thronged with Shadowhunters hurrying to and fro after their endless duties. Alec's body held close to his own is the open half of a fragile place where Magnus fits, that he makes complete. A dangerous realization. A vital one.

They're just to the side of Ops and in the middle of their second serious fight. The guilt over his part in Jace's fate thrums under the rest of his thoughts, which are rifling through every scrap of occult knowledge that might help, until they all go still at Alec's nearness.

They don't really solve their second serious fight there. A few muttered words don't do that, though they loosen the bands locked around his heart, pulled tight with worry that they'd broken something that couldn't be mended. Magnus wants to take Alec aside, somewhere they don't have to make their own calm, and finish the conversation. Hold him for a stolen hour in a world that won't suffer such a delay.

He drops his hands, points out that they have more important things to focus on. Even nodding agreement, Alec doesn't break away.

They may well be about to go to war together. That's what it means to go against this enemy. Magnus wants to shudder at the thought that he let her freely enter his home, cloaked in a guise of humanity. Like pouring a hurricane into a bottle and setting it on a shelf, knowing she could shatter the glass at a whim.

Jace needs them. Alec needs him. That means he needs to think with cold logic instead of runaway metaphor.

"I should go," he says. "Call Catarina. She's got a better library on healing magic than I do."

"Magnus—" Alec hasn't let go. His hand is on Magnus's arm. He looks young and lost and resolute. "It is important. We get Jace back, and when he's safe, when it's done, we—you and I—need to talk."

"That seems reasonable." Magnus tries to smile. Alec is a soldier, born and raised to serve a cause greater than himself. He'd say he's been at war since he was first sent into the field, bow in hand, his oath-brother at his side.

There's the slow war of attrition that Shadowhunters wage day to day. Drawing the ire of a queen of Hell is another matter. One might be shaking the bottle; the other is smashing it to shrapnel.

"I mean," Alec says, "that you're important." Comically, his free hand folds behind his back, half of a parade rest, until he realizes he can't do that and keep touching Magnus. "I can't worry about it now, but it never leaves my mind. Does that make sense?"

This, Magnus understands. The splitting and unsplitting of moments from the flow of the world. You can never stay in them, not forever. "Everyone you love needs to be put first sometimes. Not this literally, on the average day, but the point stands."

Alec, blessedly, just nods. "Yeah. Thank you." His sigh of relief is a wisp of air, nearly silent.

Alec will go and steal a demon trap so they can challenge Lilith, and he has time for elation at Magnus being a modest level of rational about their lovers' quarrel. Again he took the first step, made himself an easy target.

Magnus glances about, aware that they're in the Institute, that Alec can never shed his title here. It is quiet, the crowd momentarily cleared out.

He reaches up, pulls Alec down, and kisses him. Alec gasps—they've never kissed here outside well-shut doors—but shrugs through his confusion, his hands light at Magnus's sides. It feels like a send-off kiss, a last tenderness on the cusp of separation, but that's not quite true. Maybe it becomes more: a resolution, a promise, lingering for a long moment.

"When this is done," Magnus says, as they part, and the world goes on.


End file.
